Sisters

The Daughters of Hope (Esperanza). 36"x48" Oil on Museum stretched canvas.

I have shown this painting before on my blog. It is a painting of me and my sisters. This afternoon I was cleaning my email accounts and found some personal folders with saved emails. I noticed that some of these emails were prepared blog posts. I thought I'd share this one with my blog friends. On Sunday we will be celebrating my eldest sister's birthday. It will also be my Father's death anniversary. Incidentally my Mother also died two days before my second eldest sister's birthday.

The Secret World of Sisters

Wed, February 28, 2007 9:22:28 AM

A sister smiles when one tells one's stories - for she knows where the decoration has been added. ~ Chris Montaigne

Sisterly love is, of all sentiments, the most abstract. Nature does not grant it any functions. ~Ugo Betti

Children of the same family, the same blood, with the same first associations and habits, have some means of enjoyment in their power, which no subsequent connections can supply... ~Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, 1814

A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life. ~Isadora James

My Sisters

I love Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice because of the sisters. I also love Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women for the same reason. But unlike the two novels, my very own life story with my sisters, do not involve jealousy or envy. We are six women who love one another, yet there were times we wanted to wring each other's neck when we were younger. If sisters are our best friends, then I am blessed with many. They make other best friends slightly best. There is an unwritten bond among us. It says "I will never leave you, I will never abandon you." It’s almost a religion. I cannot get rid of them even when it is convenient for me that they are not there. Whatever I do they will still be there.

Because of them I will never lose my childhood. With them, I remain half-woman, half-child. Everyday they remind me of my childhood, a happy one. Our childhood home was very noisy. We also had two brothers. Oh, our poor Mother! She had eight feisty, competitive, strong-willed children. She heard it all, each vying for importance and at times of quarrel, wishing the other to be sent to live with relatives. Yet, in my sisters’ arms I find solace, comfort and love. Sometimes I am reluctant to tell them my worries because it is their nature to help and relieve my burden. The eldest told us once that we could not be successful if one of us struggles. If siblings are the people with whom we practice fairness, kindness, loyalty, cooperation and caring, then I had excellent practice. I seldom see my sisters these days, it has been years for some. There is an invisible link among us that only we can see and feel yet it was never more so visible when we gathered around our dearest Mother as she lay dying and finally when we buried her. Her passing made our bond permanent.